


(the whole wide world is) a tiny town

by minkhollow



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Groundhog Day, all the cameos, intentional copy/paste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day - or 28 years - in the life in Storybrooke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(the whole wide world is) a tiny town

**Author's Note:**

> This story came about because the fact that poor Ashley was pregnant for _28 years_ wouldn't leave me be; that in combination with the fact that no one in Storybrooke remembers much beyond a few months prior to Emma's arrival led me to the conclusion that everyone was going through the same few months over and over. This bookends S1, with the last scene taking place not long after the finale. Many thanks to Gabby for the fabulous beta job (and catching a typo that got copypasta'd most of the way through!).
> 
> I am not ABC; I'm just borrowing for fun.

Ruby nearly throws her clock radio across the room, when her alarm goes off, and wonders not for the first time why she decided to set the station to the annoyingly cheesy pop station. But then, it’s not as though Storybrooke is spoiled for choice; she’d sleep right through the talk radio station, and frankly, Michael Jackson is a hell of a lot more likely to get her out of bed than David Bowie, if only so she can make it stop.

She pulls on her uniform, then a pair of bright red leg warmers and an oversized, collarless sweatshirt; her choice of outerwear annoys Granny just as much as the miniskirt she co-opted for her uniform does, but that’s exactly why Ruby does it. She runs her hands through her hair to get the worst of the tangles out, does her makeup (big and bold, of course), and heads downstairs to the diner.

The talk radio station’s on down here; Granny seems to like it. They’re talking about some people blowing up some buildings in Lebanon. Ruby wants to bring herself to care, she really does; even if buildings blowing up isn’t a thing that happens in Storybrooke, it can’t be good for the people it’s happening to. But Lebanon just seems so far away.

Hell, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be lucky if she ever makes it to Portland, never mind Lebanon. She should have just followed through and left for Boston when she could. Stupid Granny’s stupid heart giving out. Stupid dead mother. Stupid… she doesn’t even know where her father disappeared to after knocking her mother up, Granny never talks about it, but he’s stupid too. Stupid sense of familial obligation that she went and developed when she wasn’t looking.

(Not that Ruby knows what she would have done when she got to Boston, but she’s not ever going to tell Granny that. The whole point is that she’s trapped in Storybrooke.)

It’s a perfectly normal morning shift at the diner. Mary Margaret, having already had breakfast, is having a cup of cocoa and grading a few papers before the school day starts. Sheriff Graham, the lone wolf to Ruby’s pack animal, is ensconced in his usual corner with his usual sausage-fest of a breakfast and black coffee. Dr. Hopper’s sticking to pancakes – and tea with milk and sugar, of course.

When Granny’s busy, Ruby slips a plate of waffles to Nicholas and Ava. She’ll pay for it out of her tips later; those two have enough on their plates (so to speak) without worrying about whether they can have breakfast.

Mayor Mills uses lunch to parade around like she owns the place, to the surprise of absolutely no one. It’s a certainty of Storybrooke, like the clock that they can’t ever seem to find the funding to fix and the fact that Sidney Glass will be in that evening, concocting the Daily Mirror’s next set of bullshit headlines over as many whiskeys as Ruby can pour him.

She has a four-hour break between lunch and her evening shift, and Ashley’s done with her housekeeping rounds for the day, so Ruby takes her over to the sushi restaurant (she could eat at the diner for free, but sometimes she just wants something a little less grandma’s-kitchen, especially since it is her grandmother’s actual kitchen) and they start talking turkey. Ashley came to her in tears three weeks ago about the fact that Gold and Sean’s father are basically forcing her to sign over her baby, and they’re going to need a plan for when she pops. Ashley can’t stay pregnant forever, after all, and Gold’s a real bastard to try to get past, but Ruby’s going to look out for her friend if she has to tear someone’s throat out to do it.

Dinner is, mercifully, much quieter than breakfast; there aren’t many people in other than the town lushes, admitted (Leroy) or not (Sidney). When Ruby finally collapses into bed, she wishes tomorrow will be different, but she knows it won’t. She’s stuck in a boring town where nothing exciting ever happens.

***

Ruby nearly throws her clock radio across the room, when her alarm goes off, and wonders not for the first time why she decided to set the station to the annoyingly cheesy pop station. But then, it’s not as though Storybrooke is spoiled for choice; she’d sleep right through the talk radio station, and frankly, Madonna is a hell of a lot more likely to get her out of bed than the Red Hot Chili Peppers, if only so she can make it stop.

She pulls on her uniform, then digs out a tight-fitting red leather jacket, to put it on after she’s done with her hair; her choice of outerwear annoys Granny just as much as the miniskirt she co-opted for her uniform does, but that’s exactly why Ruby does it. She teases her hair up as big as she can get it, does her makeup (big and bold, of course), and heads downstairs to the diner.

The talk radio station’s on down here; Granny seems to like it. They’re talking about some people tearing down a wall in Germany. Ruby wants to bring herself to care, she really does; even if Storybrooke’s kind of lacking in walls that need tearing down, it sounds like it’s the best thing that could happen to Berlin. But Germany just seems so far away.

Hell, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be lucky if she ever makes it to Portland, never mind Germany. She should have just followed through and left for Boston when she could. Stupid Granny’s stupid heart giving out. Stupid dead mother. Stupid… she doesn’t even know where her father disappeared to after knocking her mother up, Granny never talks about it, but he’s stupid too. Stupid sense of familial obligation that she went and developed when she wasn’t looking.

(Not that Ruby knows what she would have done when she got to Boston, but she’s not ever going to tell Granny that. The whole point is that she’s trapped in Storybrooke.)

It’s a perfectly normal morning shift at the diner. Mary Margaret, having already had breakfast, is having a cup of cocoa and grading a few papers before the school day starts. Sheriff Graham, the lone wolf to Ruby’s pack animal, is ensconced in his usual corner with his usual sausage-fest of a breakfast and black coffee. Dr. Hopper’s sticking to pancakes – and tea with milk and sugar, of course.

When Granny’s busy, Ruby slips a plate of waffles to Nicholas and Ava. She’ll pay for it out of her tips later; those two have enough on their plates (so to speak) without worrying about whether they can have breakfast.

Mayor Mills uses lunch to parade around like she owns the place, to the surprise of absolutely no one. It’s a certainty of Storybrooke, like the clock that they can’t ever seem to find the funding to fix and the fact that Sidney Glass will be in that evening, concocting the Daily Mirror’s next set of bullshit headlines over as many whiskeys as Ruby can pour him.

She has a four-hour break between lunch and her evening shift, and Ashley’s done with her housekeeping rounds for the day, so Ruby takes her over to the sushi restaurant (she could eat at the diner for free, but sometimes she just wants something a little less grandma’s-kitchen, especially since it is her grandmother’s actual kitchen) and they start talking turkey. Ashley came to her in tears three weeks ago about the fact that Gold and Sean’s father are basically forcing her to sign over her baby, and they’re going to need a plan for when she pops. Ashley can’t stay pregnant forever, after all, and Gold’s a real bastard to try to get past, but Ruby’s going to look out for her friend if she has to tear someone’s throat out to do it.

Dinner is, mercifully, much quieter than breakfast; there aren’t many people in other than the town lushes, admitted (Leroy) or not (Sidney). When Ruby finally collapses into bed, she wishes tomorrow will be different, but she knows it won’t. She’s stuck in a boring town where nothing exciting ever happens.

***

Ruby nearly throws her clock radio across the room, when her alarm goes off, and wonders not for the first time why she decided to set the station to the annoyingly cheesy pop station. But then, it’s not as though Storybrooke is spoiled for choice; she’d sleep right through the talk radio station, and frankly, Ace of Base is a hell of a lot more likely to get her out of bed than Nirvana, if only so she can make it stop.

She pulls on her uniform, then a red flannel shirt; her choice of outerwear annoys Granny just as much as the miniskirt she co-opted for her uniform does, but that’s exactly why Ruby does it. She does as little with her hair as she can get away with, does her makeup (as Goth as she can go without looking dead), and heads downstairs to the diner.

The talk radio station’s on down here; Granny seems to like it. They’re talking about someone blowing up a building in Oklahoma. Ruby wants to bring herself to care, she really does; even if buildings blowing up isn’t a thing that happens in Storybrooke, it can’t be good for the people it’s happening to. But Oklahoma just seems so far away.

Hell, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be lucky if she ever makes it to Portland, never mind Oklahoma. She should have just followed through and left for Boston when she could. Stupid Granny’s stupid heart giving out. Stupid dead mother. Stupid… she doesn’t even know where her father disappeared to after knocking her mother up, Granny never talks about it, but he’s stupid too. Stupid sense of familial obligation that she went and developed when she wasn’t looking.

(Not that Ruby knows what she would have done when she got to Boston, but she’s not ever going to tell Granny that. The whole point is that she’s trapped in Storybrooke.)

It’s a perfectly normal morning shift at the diner. Mary Margaret, having already had breakfast, is having a cup of cocoa and grading a few papers before the school day starts. Sheriff Graham, the lone wolf to Ruby’s pack animal, is ensconced in his usual corner with his usual sausage-fest of a breakfast and black coffee. Dr. Hopper’s sticking to pancakes – and tea with milk and sugar, of course.

When Granny’s busy, Ruby slips a plate of waffles to Nicholas and Ava. She’ll pay for it out of her tips later; those two have enough on their plates (so to speak) without worrying about whether they can have breakfast.

Mayor Mills uses lunch to parade around like she owns the place, to the surprise of absolutely no one. It’s a certainty of Storybrooke, like the clock that they can’t ever seem to find the funding to fix and the fact that Sidney Glass will be in that evening, concocting the Daily Mirror’s next set of bullshit headlines over as many whiskeys as Ruby can pour him.

She has a four-hour break between lunch and her evening shift, and Ashley’s done with her housekeeping rounds for the day, so Ruby takes her over to the sushi restaurant (she could eat at the diner for free, but sometimes she just wants something a little less grandma’s-kitchen, especially since it is her grandmother’s actual kitchen) and they start talking turkey. Ashley came to her in tears three weeks ago about the fact that Gold and Sean’s father are basically forcing her to sign over her baby, and they’re going to need a plan for when she pops. Ashley can’t stay pregnant forever, after all, and Gold’s a real bastard to try to get past, but Ruby’s going to look out for her friend if she has to tear someone’s throat out to do it.

Dinner is, mercifully, much quieter than breakfast; there aren’t many people in other than the town lushes, admitted (Leroy) or not (Sidney). When Ruby finally collapses into bed, she wishes tomorrow will be different, but she knows it won’t. She’s stuck in a boring town where nothing exciting ever happens.

***

Ruby nearly throws her clock radio across the room, when her alarm goes off, and wonders not for the first time why she decided to set the station to the annoyingly cheesy pop station. But then, it’s not as though Storybrooke is spoiled for choice; she’d sleep right through the talk radio station, and frankly, the Backstreet Boys are a hell of a lot more likely to get her out of bed than System of a Down, if only so she can make it stop.

She pulls on her uniform, and fishes a red motorcycle jacket out of her closet; her choice of outerwear annoys Granny just as much as the miniskirt she co-opted for her uniform does, but that’s exactly why Ruby does it. She does her hair (she’s trying a ‘40s-style pompadour kind of thing, which seems to be working out well so far), does her makeup (as Goth as she can go without looking dead), and heads downstairs to the diner.

The talk radio station’s on down here; Granny seems to like it. They’re talking about some assholes flying planes into skyscrapers in New York. It’s actually a little worrying; even if planes hitting buildings isn’t a thing that happens in Storybrooke, it can’t be good for the people it’s happening to. But New York just seems so far away.

Hell, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be lucky if she ever makes it to Portland, never mind New York. She should have just followed through and left for Boston when she could. Stupid Granny’s stupid heart giving out. Stupid dead mother. Stupid… she doesn’t even know where her father disappeared to after knocking her mother up, Granny never talks about it, but he’s stupid too. Stupid sense of familial obligation that she went and developed when she wasn’t looking.

(Not that Ruby knows what she would have done when she got to Boston, but she’s not ever going to tell Granny that. The whole point is that she’s trapped in Storybrooke.)

It’s a perfectly normal morning shift at the diner. Mary Margaret, having already had breakfast, is having a cup of cocoa and grading a few papers before the school day starts. Sheriff Graham, the lone wolf to Ruby’s pack animal, is ensconced in his usual corner with his usual sausage-fest of a breakfast and black coffee. Dr. Hopper’s sticking to pancakes – and tea with milk and sugar, of course.

When Granny’s busy, Ruby slips a plate of waffles to Nicholas and Ava. She’ll pay for it out of her tips later; those two have enough on their plates (so to speak) without worrying about whether they can have breakfast.

Mayor Mills uses lunch to parade around like she owns the place, to the surprise of absolutely no one – and to show off the kid she just adopted, while she’s at it. It’s a certainty of Storybrooke, like the clock that they can’t ever seem to find the funding to fix and the fact that Sidney Glass will be in that evening, concocting the Daily Mirror’s next set of bullshit headlines over as many whiskeys as Ruby can pour him.

She has a four-hour break between lunch and her evening shift, and Ashley’s done with her housekeeping rounds for the day, so Ruby takes her over to the sushi restaurant (she could eat at the diner for free, but sometimes she just wants something a little less grandma’s-kitchen, especially since it is her grandmother’s actual kitchen) and they start talking turkey. Ashley came to her in tears three weeks ago about the fact that Gold and Sean’s father are basically forcing her to sign over her baby – and seeing the mayor with a baby really isn’t helping matters – and they’re going to need a plan for when she pops. Ashley can’t stay pregnant forever, after all, and Gold’s a real bastard to try to get past, but Ruby’s going to look out for her friend if she has to tear someone’s throat out to do it.

Dinner is, mercifully, much quieter than breakfast; there aren’t many people in other than the town lushes, admitted (Leroy) or not (Sidney). When Ruby finally collapses into bed, she wishes tomorrow will be different, but she knows it won’t. She’s stuck in a boring town where nothing exciting ever happens.

***

Ruby nearly throws her clock radio across the room, when her alarm goes off, and wonders not for the first time why she decided to set the station to the annoyingly cheesy pop station. But then, it’s not as though Storybrooke is spoiled for choice; she’d sleep right through the talk radio station, and frankly, Britney Spears is a hell of a lot more likely to get her out of bed than Franz Ferdinand, if only so she can make it stop.

She pulls on her uniform, and fishes a red motorcycle jacket out of her closet; her choice of outerwear annoys Granny just as much as the miniskirt she co-opted for her uniform does, but that’s exactly why Ruby does it. She does her hair, makes sure the red streaks are still in good shape, does her makeup (big and bold, of course), and heads downstairs to the diner.

The talk radio station’s on down here; Granny seems to like it. They’re talking about the vice president shooting a lawyer in the face in Texas. It’s really kind of a hilarious mental image, even though Ruby’s sure the lawyer’s not such a fan. But Texas just seems so far away.

Hell, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be lucky if she ever makes it to Portland, never mind Texas. She should have just followed through and left for Boston when she could. Stupid Granny’s stupid heart giving out. Stupid dead mother. Stupid… she doesn’t even know where her father disappeared to after knocking her mother up, Granny never talks about it, but he’s stupid too. Stupid sense of familial obligation that she went and developed when she wasn’t looking.

(Not that Ruby knows what she would have done when she got to Boston, but she’s not ever going to tell Granny that. The whole point is that she’s trapped in Storybrooke.)

It’s a perfectly normal morning shift at the diner. Mary Margaret, having already had breakfast, is having a cup of cocoa and grading a few papers before the school day starts. Sheriff Graham, the lone wolf to Ruby’s pack animal, is ensconced in his usual corner with his usual sausage-fest of a breakfast and black coffee. Dr. Hopper’s sticking to pancakes – and tea with milk and sugar, of course. Henry’s somehow managed to slip away from his mom and sneak a dollar for his own cocoa; given that he’s in the mayor’s clutches on a daily basis, he’s a remarkably sweet kid.

When Granny’s busy, Ruby slips a plate of waffles to Nicholas and Ava. She’ll pay for it out of her tips later; those two have enough on their plates (so to speak) without worrying about whether they can have breakfast.

Mayor Mills uses lunch to parade around like she owns the place, to the surprise of absolutely no one. It’s a certainty of Storybrooke, like the clock that they can’t ever seem to find the funding to fix and the fact that Sidney Glass will be in that evening, concocting the Daily Mirror’s next set of bullshit headlines over as many whiskeys as Ruby can pour him.

She has a four-hour break between lunch and her evening shift, and Ashley’s done with her housekeeping rounds for the day, so Ruby takes her over to the sushi restaurant (she could eat at the diner for free, but sometimes she just wants something a little less grandma’s-kitchen, especially since it is her grandmother’s actual kitchen) and they start talking turkey. Ashley came to her in tears three weeks ago about the fact that Gold and Sean’s father are basically forcing her to sign over her baby – and the mayor’s kid really isn’t helping matters – and they’re going to need a plan for when she pops. Ashley can’t stay pregnant forever, after all, and Gold’s a real bastard to try to get past, but Ruby’s going to look out for her friend if she has to tear someone’s throat out to do it.

Dinner is, mercifully, much quieter than breakfast; there aren’t many people in other than the town lushes, admitted (Leroy) or not (Sidney). When Ruby finally collapses into bed, she wishes tomorrow will be different, but she knows it won’t. She’s stuck in a boring town where nothing exciting ever happens.

***

Ruby nearly throws her clock radio across the room, when her alarm goes off, and wonders not for the first time why she decided to set the station to the annoyingly cheesy pop station. But then, it’s not as though Storybrooke is spoiled for choice; she’d sleep right through the talk radio station, and frankly, Katy Perry is a hell of a lot more likely to get her out of bed than Amanda Palmer, if only so she can make it stop.

She pulls on her uniform, and fishes a giant red hoodie out of her closet; her choice of outerwear annoys Granny just as much as the miniskirt she co-opted for her uniform does, but that’s exactly why Ruby does it. She does her hair, makes sure the red streaks are still in good shape, does her makeup (in the style of Lady Gaga), and heads downstairs to the diner.

The talk radio station’s on down here; Granny seems to like it. They’re talking about a hurricane actually cutting through New England, close enough that Vermont’s got the worst flooding it’s seen in years. It’s a little weird to think about a hurricane happening somewhere other than Florida, and for the briefest of moments Ruby wonders why they didn’t see any sign of it here. But Vermont just seems so far away.

Hell, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be lucky if she ever makes it to Portland, never mind Vermont. She should have just followed through and left for Boston when she could. Stupid Granny’s stupid heart giving out. Stupid dead mother. Stupid… she doesn’t even know where her father disappeared to after knocking her mother up, Granny never talks about it, but he’s stupid too. Stupid sense of familial obligation that she went and developed when she wasn’t looking.

(Not that Ruby knows what she would have done when she got to Boston, but she’s not ever going to tell Granny that. The whole point is that she’s trapped in Storybrooke.)

It’s a perfectly normal morning shift at the diner. Mary Margaret, having already had breakfast, is having a cup of cocoa and grading a few papers before the school day starts. Sheriff Graham, the lone wolf to Ruby’s pack animal, is ensconced in his usual corner with his usual sausage-fest of a breakfast and black coffee. Dr. Hopper’s sticking to pancakes – and tea with milk and sugar, of course. Henry’s somehow managed to slip away from his mom and sneak a dollar for his own cocoa; given that he’s in the mayor’s clutches on a daily basis, he’s a remarkably sweet kid.

When Granny’s busy, Ruby slips a plate of waffles to Nicholas and Ava. She’ll pay for it out of her tips later; those two have enough on their plates (so to speak) without worrying about whether they can have breakfast.

Mayor Mills uses lunch to parade around like she owns the place, to the surprise of absolutely no one. It’s a certainty of Storybrooke, like the clock that they can’t ever seem to find the funding to fix and the fact that Sidney Glass will be in that evening, concocting the Daily Mirror’s next set of bullshit headlines over as many whiskeys as Ruby can pour him.

She has a four-hour break between lunch and her evening shift, and Ashley’s done with her housekeeping rounds for the day, so Ruby takes her over to the sushi restaurant (she could eat at the diner for free, but sometimes she just wants something a little less grandma’s-kitchen, especially since it is her grandmother’s actual kitchen) and they start talking turkey. Ashley came to her in tears three weeks ago about the fact that Gold and Sean’s father are basically forcing her to sign over her baby – and the mayor’s kid really isn’t helping matters – and they’re going to need a plan for when she pops. Ashley can’t stay pregnant forever, after all, and Gold’s a real bastard to try to get past, but Ruby’s going to look out for her friend if she has to tear someone’s throat out to do it.

Dinner is, mercifully, much quieter than breakfast; there aren’t many people in other than the town lushes, admitted (Leroy) or not (Sidney). On the other hand, Regina’s back; that can’t be a good sign.

“Miss Lucas,” she says, the barest hint of distress showing (she must be really rattled, Ruby thinks, for it to make this much of a difference). “Have you seen Henry this evening?”

Ruby frowns. “Not since breakfast. Why?”

“He seems to have gone missing. Dr. Hopper said he missed his session, but he’d assumed Henry had gone home, and he isn’t there.”

“Well, I haven’t seen him. I hope he turns up.”

“You and me both, Miss Lucas.” Regina sweeps out of the diner, and Ruby frowns; it’s weird how much the mayor cares about the kid, considering she doesn’t seem to have a positive emotion in her body.

When Ruby finally collapses into bed, she wishes tomorrow will be different, but she knows it won’t. She’s stuck in a boring town where nothing exciting ever happens.

***

The next day, Henry turns up – with a blonde woman he claims is his birth mother in tow. It’s the first really interesting thing Ruby can remember happening in ages.

***

As it turns out, it was the first interesting thing to happen in Storybrooke in 28 years. Of course, it’s a few months before that’s really obvious, but once it is, she can’t think how they all missed it.

Poor Ella’s reeling that she was pregnant that entire time, and Red can hardly blame her, much like she can’t blame Snow and James and Emma for trying to pack three decades’ worth of family bonding in all at once. Regina’s made herself scarce; much as she hates to admit it, that’s probably for the best. It’ll give everyone else time to calm down and not stoop to her level in the heat of the moment.

(Besides, it’ll be that much sweeter if Regina’s alive to suffer the consequences of her actions.)

In the meantime, Red’s got some unfinished business of her own to see to, and so she heads down to the pawn shop. She’s hoping that the girl Rumpelstiltskin seems to have acquired will make this whole encounter go a little more smoothly, and she’s not really looking forward to it, but – well. On the whole, she tends to look forward to eating people even less.

When she goes in, she barely glances at the man himself (for the moment, at least technically, he can still be called that) and says, “You have something of mine.”

She catches the motion of a shrug out of the corner of her eye. “I have something of everyone’s, dearie. You’re hardly a special case.”

“Perhaps not, broadly speaking,” Red admits, moving closer to a wardrobe. “But in my particular case, I do think it’s necessary. After all, it is coming up on sundown.”

“Is it, now,” Rumpelstiltskin says, trying to sound bored – but Red doesn’t have to look (has never had to look, even during the curse) to know that he’s unnerved.

“Which is to say, it’s coming up on moonrise. And even with as much trouble as you’ve caused for everyone, I would feel bad if I happened to hurt you.”

He doesn’t answer, but a girl’s voice with a strong Southlands accent calls from the back room, “And it would be no one’s fault but your own, Rumpelstiltskin. You provided the means for this, after all.”

After a long few moments, he sighs. “Very well. Your terms, Miss Lucas?”

“Simple enough – you give me back my cloak and I don’t hang around here to find out how well I remember the difference between prey and not-prey.” Red’s not even pleased to have to be making that statement, but she’d rather not get bogged down in owing him any favors, or anything worse than that.

Rumpelstiltskin doesn’t look (or smell) at all pleased, but he stalks over to the wardrobe Red’s been eyeing, opens it, and pulls her cloak down from a hanger. “Done. I hear the woods are lovely this time of month.”

Red smiles. “I intend to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> The sushi restaurant is a nod to Fyre's fabulous [Not Far from the Tree](http://archiveofourown.org/works/295605), mostly because I want it to actually be in Storybrooke so badly.


End file.
